


You're My Delight

by cassiem



Category: Block B
Genre: Exhibitionism, I think?, M/M, Voyeurism, lel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-05
Updated: 2016-02-05
Packaged: 2018-05-18 08:52:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5918137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassiem/pseuds/cassiem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jiho makes Yukwon watch himself...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're My Delight

**Author's Note:**

> another zikwon drabble sorry LOL
> 
> I was bullied into this

“Look.”

Yukwon doesn’t, he can’t, he’s too embarrassed by the feel of Jiho. He closes his eyes and lets his head fall back on Jiho’s shoulder, lips pressed shut to not make any noise, lest the others know – the dorm’s walls are too fucking thin.

_“Look.”_ Jiho hisses, insistent, and Yukwon shakes his head, unable and unwilling.

Jiho’s hand trails down, over his chest and stomach, to thumb open the button on his pants slowly, deliberately teasing him. Sometimes, Jiho likes to draw it out until he’s sweaty and flushed and trembling, practically _begging_ to be fucked – but other times he’s raw and angry and passionate, and it’s over all at once. He has no idea what this time has in store for him.

He feels Jiho’s lips move on his neck, hears the rumble of the younger man’s voice, shivers as it travels down his back, through his fingertips, until he’s practically buzzing. “Yukwon. Look.”

And then Jiho grabs his chin and forces his head forward roughly – but then that’s okay, they both love the pain – and gives it a shake, his fingers digging into Yukwon’s cheek, forcing him to open his eyes.

They’re standing in front of the huge mirror in the dorm bathroom. Their shirts lie discarded in a puddle around their feet, forgotten. One of Jiho’s hands is tracing a line just above his waistband, the other wrapped around Yukwon’s face, and all he can see of Jiho is his wild eyes, peeking above Yukwon’s shoulder, his hair messy.

“Look.” Jiho whispers again, and he does, helpless but silently loving it.

Jiho’s hand moves from Yukwon’s face to tangle in his hair – still long, he hasn’t bothered to cut it – and _pulls_ , hard, making him gasp, unable to contain the noise any longer. Without bothering to give him time to recover, Jiho’s hand slips underneath the waistband of his pants and grips his cock, stroking him intensely, passionately – the same way he does everything else.

He tries to say something, but his voice is all hoarse, and he croaks. “Jiho.”

“Shut up.” Jiho growls in his ear, so he does, falling silent and watching in the mirror as Jiho strokes him.

The feeling of this, of Jiho, pressed up against his back, their skin seeming to burn up wherever it meets; of Jiho’s hand, touching him so assuredly; of the evidence of Jiho’s arousal digging into his ass – he can’t _stand_ it, and he trembles, his knees going weak.

“Look at yourself.” The command comes.

He hates it and loves it all at once, the embarrassment burning him up from the inside; this is, in his eyes, something private, done behind closed doors, underneath sheets and with no lights. To have it broadcasted in such a way (even if it is just between the two of them) feels so openly exhibitionist and voyeuristic at the same time that he whines, the sound escaping through his clenched teeth and into the bathroom where it hangs in midair, a confession of exactly how much this is turning him on.

Jiho knows – of course he does, Jiho knows everything – and he smirks cockily, the hand that was buried in Yukwon’s hair coming down to tweak at a nipple. The younger man is taller but he’s stockier, and for a moment – just a moment – he wonders what was to happen if he turned this around on Jiho – but no. It doesn’t work like that.

Although when Jiho’s making him feel like this, he doesn’t particularly care _how_ it works.

He’s getting close now, his fingers falling on Jiho’s thighs, braced. Perhaps he should be embarrassed that he’s already on the edge and Jiho’s only been touching him for a few minutes; but then Jiho does that _thing_ with his hand and all thoughts of that fly out of his head, only focused on the pleasure, this strange new bliss that comes from watching himself, watching Jiho.

“Come for me.” Jiho’s voice is a vibration, felt rather than heard, and Yukwon reads it like morse code, dots and dashes pressed into his skin.

Unable to hold it back anymore, he does, and he sees, he sees it all – as he comes, his back arches, and his hands dig into Jiho’s thighs – he sees the way Jiho’s eyes darken and the way his lips part – he sees the way Jiho looks at him through the mirror, making Yukwon look at himself, making him _see_.

When it’s over, his head lolls back on Jiho’s shoulder, and they come down together, their breathing calming in sync. He can’t stay like this for long – he needs to shower, desperately; the feel of sweat and come on his skin is disgusting – but he allows himself this small moment of peace, of intimacy in what is otherwise a purely sexual relationship.

“You liked that.” Jiho says, but it’s not a question, and Yukwon reddens and steps away, wrapping his arms around himself protectively.

Jiho cocks his head and watches him, the moment dragging on for longer than it should before he raises one shoulder in a shrug and nods. “Good to know.”

And with a wink, he’s gone.

**Author's Note:**

> (i loved every minute of it tho)


End file.
